


Five Times Sam Didn't Sleep Alone and One Time He Did

by Baamon5evr



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Possible spoilers for Civil War, Sam-Centric, just in passing, mostly speculation though, references to comic book storylines and events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 11:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5966323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baamon5evr/pseuds/Baamon5evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam had never liked the cold. He'd rather not feel the coldness from her room clinging to her but still it felt warmer already, not being alone always made him feel warm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Sam Didn't Sleep Alone and One Time He Did

Sam had never liked the cold.

He hated the way it seeped into his bones and made him shake uncontrollably. Of the members of his family he usually did not get colds because he would not go out in the winter and if he did it was with a minimum of five layers. His sister Sarah was totally different. They were closer to each other than to their older brother because there was only a two year age difference between them compared to Gideon who was nine years older than Sam. Sam and Sarah did most things together but when it came to the weather Sam was a summer baby and Sarah was a winter baby through and through. She could wear shorts and a tank top in 15° weather and not be phased. She slept with a fan on her year round and opened the window in her room if their mother didn't have the heat on, leaving her room freezing in the morning. She reveled in the cold but Sam could never get warm enough. He would shiver even if he was under two duvets. He was a skinny, gangly kid so winters weren't kind to him. His room was right across from Sarah's, the radiator worked best in his room making it the warmest one in the house but with their busted heating unit that title didn't mean very much, he still shivered loudly enough to wake the dead.

It was one of the coldest nights of the year that Sam found himself curled in the fetal position trying to find warmth when suddenly his door opened. He looked towards it quickly only to see Sarah walking into the room. She closed the door behind her and climbed under the sheets.

"I can hear you shivering from my room." She explained, moving close to him to share her body heat. It probably wouldn't do much good, she was ice cold to the touch and he'd probably end up warming her up not the other way around but he appreciated the thought on her part and moved close enough to her that he could feel her breathing but didn't bother touching her. He'd rather not feel the coldness from her room clinging to her but still it felt warmer already, not being alone always made him feel warm.

**~*~*~**

Sam found that, apart from the obvious issues, he actually liked Afghanistan. Mainly for one reason: it was warm. It was warm a majority of the time. The sun beamed down mercilessly and Sam enjoyed it while Riley complained every single day. He complained to Sam and complained to his mother in letters and complained to some of the locals who they befriended. Riley was from Detroit and it wasn't so much that he hated the heat as it was that he was unused to it.

"If you can't take the heat, why'd you join the army?" Sam would ask.

"Must've been my all-encompassing patriotism." Riley would say.

"I detect some sarcasm there."

"That's cause I was being sarcastic."

Riley had signed up for the army straight out of high school. With no head for college and no desire to join the family business, he decided to make his own way and here he was. Sam had no delusions about war, he just wasn't as pessimistic about it all as Riley was but he understood that Riley had been in it longer than him. Sam went to college first and when he realized he wouldn't be able to pay for it himself and would incur huge debts if he took out loans he decided to join the army. They helped him pay for his degree in social work and psychology before he was deployed. Riley had seen more than him but had nothing else to do so he kept re-enlisting.

Except this last time.

He swore he wasn't coming back but a week after Sam told him he was going on a second tour Riley told him he re-enlisted. Sam had a few ideas why but Riley wouldn't confirm any of them. He resolved to just enjoy the hot days dragging on with the sun beating down his neck and not bother questioning Riley's actions.

At nights though when they were stuck out on patrols in the middle of the desert, when the temperature dropped by the teens, Sam was the one complaining.

"I came to the desert to escape the cold, what the fuck?" Riley laughed lowly at him as he scooted closer in their self-proclaimed spot. The rest of their team was some distance away, giving them the illusion of privacy.

"Maybe you shoulda done your research before enlisting." Sam rolled his eyes. Riley wanted them both out of the fight. If he wanted to stay home then he should've. He didn't have to re-enlist when Sam had, he had chosen that but Sam decided not to have that argument again.

"You just gonna sit there or help warm me up?" He said instead. Riley raised an eyebrow at him before smirking suggestively.

"I can think of a few ways to warm you up." Sam shot him a glare as he inched closer.

"We're not alone."

"They won't tell anyone, it's not like they don't know about us." Sam sighed a little when Riley pressed a kiss to his jaw before he pulled away.

"I still would rather us do this in private. We're not stateside anymore and I don't want to chance anything. Besides, I'd rather not get sand in hard to reach places."

"Hard to reach for you maybe, I am quite skilled at finding--" Riley trailed off into a silent pout as Sam glared at him again.

Sam was made of stronger stuff and a pout wasn't going to break him, no matter how cute said pout was. Still, he was cold so he laid down on his bedroll and waved Riley close. He eagerly joined Sam, cuddling into his side with an arm slung over his waist. Sam didn't mind the fact that they smelled of sweat and that the bedroll did little to soften the hardness of the floor, with Riley by his side he hardly noticed.

**~*~*~**

He didn't get to leave once Riley died. He still had to serve the rest of his tour but now he could feel the bitterness Riley felt about joining and he could understand further why he re-enlisted and stayed. It stopped being about fighting for honor or glory or their country and started being about fighting for their fellow soldiers, protecting the men next to them, protecting the locals near their base who didn't have to put up with them but did with limited complaints.

But once that was over, once the government shut down Project EXO-7, Sam had to relearn how to live in the real world instead of just survive and it was hard work especially without Riley. Sometimes he felt like an alien dropped into the middle of an unknown planet. He was forced to acclimate to everything all over again. He had tried hard to find himself in this world; this old new world where aliens could invade the planet and Norse gods wielding magic hammers was a thing. That in itself was fantastical and hard to wrap his head around but so was the small everyday things.

The house he shared with Riley felt like a tomb most times, too much of him was everywhere. They hadn't spent a lot of time stateside before Sam reenlisted, he met Riley in the army, they were home for maybe six months, got a place in DC which they lived in for maybe two months and then they were headed back into the thick of it.

Now, despite the fact that they hadn't been together for long in the place Riley seemed to be everywhere. He was always around the corner waiting to scare Sam for the hell of it, always sitting on the counter drinking out of the orange juice container even though Sam told him not to, always sneaking into the shower behind him, always tangled together with Sam as they slept. Riley was everywhere and nowhere at all. It broke Sam's heart everyday but he didn't move from his house despite his mother suggestions because though Riley haunted him the memories here were good memories and he needed the good memories to drown out the sounds of Riley's screams as he fell with no one there to catch him. So Sam kept everything, he kept his photo of them at Sam's parents' place for Christmas on the mantle, he kept Riley's cologne and body wash where they sat on the dresser and Riley's clothing stayed folded in the drawers he claimed as his.

But their bed had to go. He couldn't sleep in the bed they shared and he needed a new one anyway. It wasn't so much about taking a step to let Riley go and more for his sanity that he endeavored to throw their bed away. It was too soft, not as soft as his bed at his parents' place but still too soft. Plus this mattress seemed to absorb the cold and while it wasn't as abhorrent to him as it once was without someone to warm him up it lost its brief novelty.

He spent longer than he wanted to in the mattress store with one of the employees shuffling him all around the store but every mattress he showed him was too soft, too fluffy, too new, too big. He could tell the man was getting frustrated with him when a new person suddenly joined them.

"Hey, everything alright?" Sam turned to the woman who had joined them. She was a shorter woman of Indian descent. She looked to be in her mid-30s and wore a name tag that read Ursa.

"We're just... still trying to find the right fit for Mr. Wilson is all." The man helping him said. Sam internally winced. He didn't like being this much of a bother. Ursa looked him over with a critical eye before smiling.

"You're a veteran, aren't you?" The slight smile that rose on his lips wasn't entirely within his control.

"Am I that obvious?" Ursa responded by pulling her dog tags out from under her shirt.

"Sergeant Major Ursa Dandekar, 7th Regiment, Marines."

"Staff Sergeant Sam Wilson, 58th pararescue."

"'These things we do, that others might live.' Good set of men and women. Take it you're looking for a bed? Floor's not doing it for you anymore?" She said knowingly. Sam was slightly startled at her perception before he realized she probably knew from firsthand experience.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"I've got just the thing." Sam followed Ursa towards the back of the mattress store. The beds were cheaper there and cheaper looking. They were mostly single beds that wouldn't appear very comfortable to most people. Sam wasn't most people anymore. Ursa led him to one particular mattress. He watched her throw herself back first onto it with a dubious expression on his face. She almost didn't bounce at all. He raised an eyebrow when she patted the small space beside her. It would be one hell of a tight fit.

"Come on, trust me. It's fine." Sam shook his head before sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning back. They ended up pressed close to each other, her body a heat source for his. He hadn't been this close to a person in a long time. It both terrified and excited him but he put his focus to the mattress. It wasn't quite like sleeping on the ground using rocks for pillows but it's firmness was close enough to simulate the feeling for Sam. He closed his eye and let the feeling wash over him. He might've fallen asleep because when he came to he felt heavy and drowsy but rested. Ursa was still next to him, her head was pressed against his shoulder and her arm was across his chest. It should be mildly concerning to him that he had fallen asleep in a mattress store with a stranger but he didn't really care at all. They laid there together for a long while, people stared as they walked past but no one said anything.

"Have you made it down to the VA yet?" Ursa said suddenly. Sam shook his after a moment.

"There are good people there. My sister got me to go after I got back, she works the front desk. I was skeptical at first, thought I could do it all alone but the people there saved me more times than I can count. You should consider it."

Sam buys the bed and considers Ursa's advice.

He finds himself wandering into the VA not long after and has a hard time finding a reason to leave.

**~*~*~**

Sam loved the heat, really he did but the heat in Brazil during a heat wave could be a killer. He and Steve found themselves in Rio de Janeiro chasing leads on HYDRA bases. Steve had finally accepted that they probably weren't just going to stumble upon Bucky unless he wanted it to happen and so instead they began dealing with HYDRA as a whole and if they got a little extra assistance, say an unseen sniper, well then it was just their lucky day. Sam had been some pretty rough places with Steve. From freezing his balls off in Siberia to nearly having an epileptic seizure in Japan to almost being mauled by a panther, both literally and figuratively, in Wakanda he had endured some harsh conditions but this heat was something from hell even to someone like him. Steve who already ran hot probably felt it worse than anyone. One would think that his body would have some kind of temperature regulator for these kinds of situations.

"I'm a supersoldier, not a meat locker."

"Well, all things considered, meat locker isn't far off." Sam retorted, gesturing to Steve's muscles trying their hardest to burst out of his shirt. God forbid he buys clothes that fit.

Still, Sam had watched Steve pace around the little cul-de-sac Fury put them up in to spy on their targets trying to avoid boiling but all he was doing was making it worse on himself and giving Sam motion sickness watching him. They were getting nothing done like this so Sam gave up.

"Alright, stop pacing. All you're doing is accelerating your dehydration."

"I can't help it. I feel like I'm being cooked when I stand still." Steve practically whined. Sam rolled his eyes but drew closer to Steve with something like sympathy in his gaze.

"Poor you." Steve looked slightly indignant at that if the screw of his lips was any indication but that was quickly lost as Sam pressed his lips to Steve's. His lips were nearly scalding and Sam had to fight the reflexive urge to back away but he managed it, he was going to kiss his boyfriend for as long as he wanted and no heatwave was going to stop him... He chose to end the kiss really; the heat had no part in that.

Not really.

"Okay, you're ridiculously hot." Sam saw the joke coming the second Steve smirked in response.

"Why, thank you Sam. I'm so glad you think so."

"I'm certain there's a reason I'm with you but you've got a way of making me forget with your corny ass jokes." Steve chuckled before scrunching his nose and running a hand through his sweat dampened hair.

"Okay, we're getting in the shower to cool off, you need it." Sam dragged Steve to the bathroom and stripped him down before getting naked himself and turning on the hose in the bathroom. The water spewed cold which was just what they needed. Sam might not like the cold but he liked the sigh of relief that passed Steve's lips as the stream poured down on his sunburned skin so he braved it. He helped Steve wash his hair and body and Steve did the same for him. He got the distinct sense that Steve would rather not leave the coolness of the bath even though he was clean and cooler. Sam stepped out of the shower but turned back as Steve grabbed his hand.

'"Stay?"

"I'll be right back. Get things comfortable for us." Sam padded wet and naked to the cooler, grabbed a bag of ice and returned to the bathroom where Steve was filling up the tub with cold water. Sam poured the ice in before slipping back into the tub and sitting with his back to the rim. Steve turned off the pipe after a fashion and then moved to sit across from Sam. They barely fit in the tub together, their legs ended up tangled bordering on uncomfortable but Sam didn't move.

"This is much better." He said instead.

"Maybe we should put off Brazil, maybe go someplace cooler next. Like Canada." Steve suggested.

"I feel like Canadians are too nice to be HYDRA assholes." Sam responded, leaning back with his eyes closed.

"Even better for us, we can stay in all day. Preferably in bed."

"You're nice and all but if I'm in Canada there's no way I'm not going to a diner to get Canadian bacon and pancakes with maple syrup." Sam heard Steve scoff before he sat up quickly in shock at Steve splashing what must've been a bucket's worth of water at him.

"You did not just--"

"I don't know what you mean." Steve replied with mock innocence. Sam quickly splashed Steve back and it quickly devolved into a water fight. He was aware of the fact that they were getting water all over the floor but he didn't stop, not when he heard Steve's laugh mingling with his. He didn't laugh nearly enough, neither of them did. Eventually the fight died down and Sam looked over at Steve who was still chuckling lowly and whose hair was soaked, he was smiling brightly at Sam. There were times when that smile reminded him achingly of Riley but in the moment Sam could think of nothing but enjoying this moment with Steve, being in the present with him, loving him.

God, he loved this man.

Perhaps too much.

He found himself scooting to the other side of the tub and settling between Steve's legs, leaning himself against his broad chest. Steve wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. They sat in the tub of cold water for longer than they should've really. Sam could feel his skin pruning and was fighting off sleep in his arms however he decided he didn't care, he felt safe there with Steve even if when it came down to it he'd be safer never knowing who Steve was beyond the figure he read about in a school textbook. He wasn't Captain America here, here he was the man who Sam loved, the person he could see himself with for the rest of his life, the person who would be right beside him when he woke up in the morning. There wasn't much he wouldn't trade away just for this.

**~*~*~**

Something was beeping obnoxiously loud and it had been for some time now.

Sam could hear it blaring from where he resided on the edge of consciousness but he was held there, unable to do anything about it. It went on for some time until finally sleep lifted its hold on him. He blinked awake, his eyes stung and watered as if he hadn't gotten enough sleep when he knew the sleeping pills that had become a staple of his everyday routine wouldn't allow him any less than eight hours rest no matter if he was subconsciously aware of his surroundings or not. The alarm clock continued blaring before Sam slapped the snooze button and turned the alarm off altogether. He sat up in the single bed he had recently purchased to replace the king so it wouldn't feel so big and empty, as if he could fool himself into forgetting Steve was gone. He had staunchly ignored Ursa’a sad look when he asked her to come mattress shopping with him. It had been foolish of him really to buy the larger bed after he and Steve decided to share a bed, he was stupidly hopeful, he should’ve known better.

Sam sighed before standing up and making his way to the bathroom. He used the toilet and brushed his teeth all without looking around too much so he wouldn’t notice that Steve’s toothbrush was gone. He had broken it in half and thrown it away in a fit of rage.

He walked past his drawers on his way to the kitchen without going inside of them. Steve’s clothing was still there just like Riley’s was but they hurt more to look at in a way. Riley and he hadn’t spent as much time in this house as he and Steve had and he lingered even more than Riley did. Sam couldn’t escape Steve anywhere he went. Everyone was still talking about Captain America’s assassination, it was still all over the news, politicians were using it to argue one side or another and it stopped the Avengers from physically fighting if not verbally and politically. And Sam? Sam was just here.

He had signed the registration act so he could attend Steve’s funeral but after that he had not seen any of the Avengers. He moved back to DC quietly only saying goodbye to Bucky and Natasha, who updated him on the details of Steve’s death. It had been Rumlow’s dirty work and he had brainwashed Sharon and used her to carry out his plan. Sam decided that was more than enough for him to deal with without the daily craziness of superhero life, especially government contracted hero life and so he left Sharon and Rumlow’s fate to the government and the Avengers to decide and stayed holed up in his apartment.

He shopped, made an occasional trip to the VA, talked to his mother over the phone and spent the rest of his time at home.

He knew reporters hid in his bushes trying to catch a statement from him or snap a cover worthy picture, he knew Stark or Rhodes probably had a tail on him, he knew that the government could swoop in and make him their puppet any second thanks to his signature on the Accords. He couldn’t focus on that, he couldn’t dwell on it because he was busying trying to figure out a way to survive, how to keep breathing without feeling like every breath was more of a struggle than the last, how to make himself feel like the fact that he was sleeping alone again wasn't ripping him apart on the inside, how to get past the fact that once again the man he loved was gone and he didn’t do a thing to protect.

It was an ongoing process.

**~*~*~**

Sam looked around still not quite believing he was here with all the Avengers ready to fight but here he was. He had shut everyone out so completely that the possibility of all the living Avengers together again without trying to rip each other apart seemed unimaginable. He knew the Avengers had been active after Steve's death, he knew Bucky picked up the shield however reluctantly and he had seen some of their work on the news but they were never all together and he hadn't ever joined them. He never got court-martialed or hauled in during that time so he figured he either wasn't needed or wanted and apart from the occasional call that went ignored and the time Scott came to visit along with his daughter citing a school field trip he hadn't had any contact with any of them and here he was now, ready to strap his wings on and fight once again but he didn't mind, he was doing it for Natasha.

Natasha who had called him the most and whose calls it hurt the most to ignore. Natasha who despite being on Tony's side in the conflict had taken on the daunting task of telling him Steve was dead and comforted him in her own way every day up until Sam left. Natasha who left a voicemail for him every day until the day she didn't. Bucky showed up at his apartment a short while later relaying to him that Natasha had been taken by her old masters who wished to add her to their army of genetically engineered and modified soldiers which found Sam where he was now, back in the Avengers complex strategizing how to retrieve Natasha, take down the base and differentiate between which of the soldiers were brainwashed drones who could be rehabilitated and who they had to take out or bring in for questioning.

Sam sat back and noticed differences in his former teammates, the way they carried themselves and their interactions with each other.

Bucky seemed a lot more confident than the last time he'd seen him; he smiled more and was okay with people touching him and interacting with him for extended periods of time. He even made jokes at his own expense, more interestingly he was overly worried for Natasha, even more so than Clint which was telling of where their relationship went while Sam was gone.

Wanda seemed more secure in herself and her powers, whenever Sam seemed to be spacing out she would use her powers to create some image to distract him. He more than once had a bird made of red light appear before his eyes and begin flying around him. She spoke more to all of the Avengers, even Tony, though she still stuck to Clint's side more than the others and the pain in her eyes when she spoke of Pietro was duller, replaced with light and joy when she spoke about Clint’s wife and children as if they were her family.

Rhodey was still recuperating from the injuries he'd incurred during their fight in Germany. He was still in a wheelchair but he could move his legs moderately well, whether he would fully regain his ability to walk was still in question but he was in high spirits, he still had his air of authority and Sam's respect and remorse. Everyone else was largely themselves if closer knit though Tony was more subdued than Sam had ever seen him. Despite the few, slight differences in his teammates Sam didn't feel uncomfortable and he had spoken with or was alone with all of them at one point or other, well almost all of them. Sharon avoided him like the plague, guilt clear in her eyes. He would tell her he didn't blame her if she didn't run in the opposite direction every time he approached her.

Sam found he wasn't as sad or angry as he thought he'd be when he walked back into the complex. He wasn't 100% okay; that, realistically, wasn't attainable but it didn't hurt as much and that was really all he could go for. He didn't want to be the only one feeling this way, he knew Steve wouldn't blame Sharon for his death and frankly he'd rather her not be wallowing in self-pity the entire time he was here because he would go back home eventually and he wanted to spend time with the woman he considered his friend despite all that had happened, he needed these wounds to at least begin healing before he left again.

He knocked on Sharon's door late in the night once everyone had disbursed so they could rest.

"Who is it?"

"It's Sam." The other side was silent for a moment before the door cracked open.

"Hey, I was wondering if I could talk to you. It's pretty important." Sam saw a flash of fear pass her eyes.

"Uh, yeah. Just, let me... give me a minute." Sam nodded and waited patiently as he could hear shuffling and two female voices on the other side. He stood to the side as Maria stepped out of the room. Her hair was wet and she was wearing a robe as she stepped past him.

“Hey, talk slow, will ya? Make sure what you’re saying actually gets through her thick skull.” She said, patting his cheek as she passed by. He looked inquiringly at Sharon to indicate if he could enter and then walked past her when she waved him in. He looked at the bed uncertainly with its ruffled sheets.

“Should I be standing or is it safe?” Sharon blushed slightly.

“Bed’s fine, we didn’t use it.” Sam quirked an eyebrow at that but didn’t ask. He sat down and looked Sharon over; he hadn’t had time to study her. Just like Maria her hair was wet but curling naturally as it dried. She was wearing baggy sweatpants with a formfitting t-shirt that let Sam see that she was thinner than when he’d last seen her, her skin slightly paler but he couldn’t tell if that was from the shower or natural. Her eyes seemed heavier though the light wasn’t completely gone from them. He snapped out of his assessment of her as she shifted and cleared her throat.

“What?” She asked nervously.

“It’s just you lost weight.” Sharon shrugged lightly in response.

“I’ve been working a lot more lately, it’s nothing really.”

“Hmm. How are you holding up? I know everything with Natasha might hit a little closer to home with everything that happened with Rumlow.”

“I’m fine. I mean... yeah, it’s a little more personal but Natasha’s my friend, she’s in trouble, we’ll find her. It’s that simple and if we run into Rumlow in the process I won’t pass up dealing with him. He keeps slipping away from us.” Sam could hear the frustration in her voice as she spoke about Rumlow and he could understand it. He honestly had no idea what he would do if confronted with the man, he didn’t know whether he would kill him or not even though his desire was strong enough and he couldn’t speak for whether Sharon would despite the fact that physically she could but just like Sharon did, Sam did have some guilt that he harbored over that.

“Speaking of Rumlow, I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got back. I was just… I was trying to deal with everything.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“I do.  I should’ve been here to make sure you knew that what happened wasn’t your fault.”

“Sam--”

“I mean it. I know you, Sharon. You would never have done anything to hurt Steve if it was your choice.”

“But it was my choice. I pulled the trigger, I could’ve made a different choice and I didn’t, I wasn’t strong enough to fight him.” Tears were welling up in Sharon’s eyes and the pain was more pronounced now, more visceral.

“I killed Steve. I was the one who did that.”

“Rumlow shot him before you ever came close.”

“He could’ve survived that but I got to him first and I killed him, that’s on me. You are a good person and I know you would never want to blame me but that doesn’t change the fact that I killed him.”

“Okay so if it’s your fault then I guess everything HYDRA made Bucky do was his fault and anything the KGB makes Natasha do is her fault too, right?” Sharon looked down and away. Sam sighed lightly before standing and approaching the blonde.

“I know that just because I say it’s not your fault doesn’t mean a magical switch is going to be flipped and you’re just going to start believing it but you still need to hear me say this: Steve’s death was not your fault, I don’t blame you, no one here blames you. It’s not on you, you were used, you were a victim in this too and it’s okay to feel violated and wrong and upset and hurt because you were forced to do something you didn’t want to do. You’re my friend and I don’t want that to change.” Sharon looked up at him, tears falling past her eyes.

“How… how can you or anyone forgive me for this? I… Aunt Peggy is sick, she wants to see me and I’ve been avoiding her because I don’t know how I’m supposed to look her in the face knowing I killed the man she’s always loved. I don’t know how you can look at me and not hate me.”

“Because I know you and Peggy knows you and we both know it’s not your fault. I forgive you because I know there’s nothing to forgive, the only person’s forgiveness you need is your own.” Sharon let out a pained sob then and Sam wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

“It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay.” Sam said, rubbing his hands over her back. He led her back towards the bed and lied down with Sharon pressed against his chest. He could feel her shoulders shaking even after her sobs became inaudible but he just kept ahold of her and held her through it until he felt her body relax. He contemplated whether or not he should leave and get Maria but ultimately he stayed where he was. He’d rather be here for Sharon and keep her warm than be cold alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for depressing you guys, I depressed myself writing the last two sections honestly.


End file.
